


We find ourselves in a place just right

by leiascully



Series: A Thousand And One Nights [4]
Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-12
Updated: 2012-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-31 00:17:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/337798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Let's never wait this long again."</p>
            </blockquote>





	We find ourselves in a place just right

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Trialia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trialia/gifts).



> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction that bears no resemblance to and claims no knowledge of the people about whom it is written.

Alex has been here, there, and everywhere for weeks, filming and filming with hardly a moment to take a breath on her own, and all it takes is one instance of Reese saying "Mister Smith", a name she pulled out of the air for God's sake, for Alex's insides to melt. She sags into Graham's couch - Reginald looks willing enough to hold her up, if she collapses - and she thinks about how glad she is that Graham doesn't know, and then she thinks about all the things she's so very glad he doesn't know about, and then all she can think about is Matt and when she might get to see him again.

It feels like serendipity when she picks up her mobile after the show and there's a text from Matt: a photo of Mark Sheppard standing next to the white Dalek. As she's holding the phone and smiling at the photo, another text arrives with a buzz and a bing. "Not nearly so nice to kiss xx." She isn't certain whether it's referring to the Dalek or to Mark, but either way, she gets that tingly, melty feeling all over again. 

"I'm free tonight if you want to drink the pain away xx," she texts back.

He shows up on her doorstep with a bottle of wine and a couple of pizzas. She grabs him by his shirt front and doesn't even let him get to "Hello", much less whatever witty remark he's rehearsed in his pretty head. She's been without him too long to even process it properly: she's just soaking him in all at once, all of him, and it's overwhelming in the best way. She'd swear she's drunk just from the scent of his skin and the taste of his mouth against hers. They tear each other's clothes off, shedding this and that all down the corridor, the pizzas and wine forgotten in the living room. He kisses her everywhere, his hands and lips all over her body. She drifts in a haze of delight, wrapped up in his arms. He moves inside her and his arms are around her and she almost sings her joy and pleasure. He murmurs to her, his words sweet and his voice sweeter, and she strokes his back as he buries his face in her neck.

Afterwards they lie tangled together and exhausted. She laughs, unable to help herself, and he chuckles along too. She sighs happily. His presence lifts a weight from her shoulders. She feels as if she hasn't breathed properly until now. 

"Ah, Ms Kingston," he says fondly. "How I missed you."

"I missed you as well," she tells him, nestling her head against his shoulder but gazing out the window. "Tragic, really."

"I know," he says sympathetically. "A face like this, that's what you were pining for? Now that's a sad day for all women."

"You're an idiot," she says, whacking his bare chest. He grins. "I happen to be quite fond of that face, along with quite a number of other people. So there."

"Quite chuffed to be wrong, then," he says, tipping her face up for a kiss. 

"Unaccountably fond of your face, really," she says. "I'm considering keeping you around."

"I like having to impress you," he protests. "One day at a time."

"Oh, clearly," she says. "Obviously we're going to carry on with that. I rather enjoy watching you scheme and plot to stay in my good graces. But I won't be replacing you without any notice."

"Job security," he says, stretching lazily, and because he's Matt and he's all arms and legs, he stretches too far and topples himself right off the bed, catching the drawer of her nightstand in a rather pathetic attempt to save himself. He groans and she laughs as he hauls himself back up. He glances into the drawer as he starts to shut it and then he opens it again and reaches into it. "Hello, what's this?"

She covers her face with her hands. "Oh, put it away."

"This is the Rabbit, isn't it?" he says with interest. "This is _the_ Rabbit! I had no idea it was so...rabbity. I mean, it's got ears and everything, doesn't it."

"Put it away!" she says again, waving her hands at him. "I'm half-starved." 

"Well, we can't have that," he says gallantly, closing the drawer. They wrap up hastily in dressing gowns and devour the lukewarm pizza, drinking the wine from the bottle like teenagers while they watch nonsense on the telly. It's comfortingly domestic. She nestles against him and he puts his arm around her. After a while, she reaches up and pulls his head down for a lazy kiss. His mouth is _wonderful_ ; bliss suffuses her the way good tea brews, slow and steady and even. _Mine_ , she thinks to herself, and doesn't realize she's murmured it against his lips.

"As long as you'll have me," he agrees, and it's a dangerous moment: she very nearly says something foolish, the kind of thing she won't be able to laugh off or rescind in the morning. But she isn't a girl. She's endured two divorces and there's absolutely no way she's going through it all again for the sake of a lean, pretty face and a long warm body next to hers in the bed, but oh, he is so very lovely in the lamplight, grinning at her. 

"Tonight, at least," she tells him. "Not sure you've earned tomorrow yet."

"I brought pizza!" he protests. 

"It was good while it lasted, certainly," she says, pretending to be thoughtful.

"Right, back to bed," he says firmly, standing up and offering her a hand. 

"I'm too full for anything now," she says.

"I'll think of something," he says. "Go on." 

She brings the bottle of wine with her, purposefully swaying her hips as she walks down the hall. He comes up close behind her so that his body brushes hers. She leans back into him and he holds her up as they sashay into the bedroom. He tugs at the sash of her dressing gown and slides the fabric off her shoulders, kissing her neck and her collarbones. She splays one hand across his chest and eases her fingers under his dressing gown in turn, and then it's all skin against skin again. He pushes her gently down onto the bed, pinning her with his body as he kisses her. He carefully takes the bottle of wine and sets it safely out of range, and then she's too distracted by his mouth and the pressure of his hips and the way when she shifts a little, their bodies line up _just_ right to realize what else he might be rattling around with until he rolls half-off her and examines the Rabbit with great interest.

"I've heard of these," he says, "but I've never actually touched one. What on earth does it do?"

She gives him a look and he smiles, sly and handsome.

"All right, I know generally what it does," he says, "but not everything. This is the inside bit, yeah, and the rabbit ears go for the outside, but why is it full of beads?"

"It rotates," she says, sitting up, and reaches for the batteries. She takes the thing from him and slots them in, turning it on to the lowest setting. His eyes widen.

"Mine doesn't do that," he says after a moment.

"No, it doesn't," she agrees, giving him a kiss, enjoying watching him squirm as if he doesn't know that she likes what he's got quite well. He kisses her back, pushing her down into the pillows and gently taking the Rabbit from her. He runs the toy over her thighs and hips and belly and she squirms delightedly underneath him. He uses the rabbit's ears to tickle her nipples and then soothes them with his tongue. She slides her hands all over his warm smooth skin, arching her body up against his. 

"Mmm, let's never wait this long again," she says as he rolls the Rabbit over her breasts.

"I plan to keep you quite close from now on," he says. "None of this a text here, a text there nonsense."

"As long as you keep earning your way, you can stay as long as you like," she tells him, making her voice as light as his so that they can keep pretending that this isn't almost as crucial as breathing, these moments when their two hearts beat in time.

"Good," he says, all throaty and husky. He lays the toy on her hipbone and slides his fingers down to explore her folds. "Oh yes. God, you're wet."

She moans as his fingers graze her clit. "Can't help it, with you around," she gasps. 

"That's what I like to hear," he says low and sexy, picking up the Rabbit again. This time he teases her with it, pressing it against her thigh so that she can feel the vibrations all through her. The buzz of it shimmers through her, just the right setting to make her clit tingle and not enough to make her move away from the aching perfection of it. God, he knows her and her body. She's wide open for him and he slides the toy inside her. She moans and digs her fingers into his back.

"Look at you," he whispers. "Beautiful."

She can't speak. It's all too much: his expression, the way his hair falls over his face, the pulse of pleasure through her body, the sweet warmth where skin touches skin. The pearls roll in just the right way inside her and the ridiculous rabbit's ears frame her clit perfectly. Matt's thigh is between her legs; he nuzzles at her neck and her ear and her face and she turns her face to his for long, lazy, perfect kisses. She reaches down and wraps her fingers around his cock, relishing the way it fits in her hand. His skin is warm and soft and she just can't stop touching him, can't stop wanting him as he strokes and teases her, worshiping her body as if he can't believe his good luck. She knows she can't believe hers. 

When she comes, it takes her almost by surprise: there's the reliable Rabbit, of course, but it's his body and his presence that overwhelm her and send her spinning through the stars.

"You're all right," Matt is murmuring when she comes back to herself. "You're okay. I'm here."

"I want you," she tells him, and he turns off the toy and slides it out of her, dropping it on the bed. He turns on his side and pulls the duvet over their bodies and her leg over his hip, cradling her in his arms as they move slowly together. This is making love, pure and simple: the room is full of the wonder of it, the soft light, the sweet hush. Her body responds to his in a way that it doesn't to the toy - there's the triumph of flesh over silicone - and she's on the edge again much sooner than she would have expected. She urges him on with her hands and her hips and her voice and soon he's shivering against her, calling out her name in a voice that breaks, and ripples of delight are shaking her whole body. They descend slowly back into the room, but the stars are still in his eyes when she opens hers.

"Matt," she says, her voice, oh, too full of tenderness and something more that she almost hopes he misses.

"Alex," he says back in exactly the same tone. His eyes say the same thing his voice does, warm and loving.

"That was all," she says.

"Okay," he says, and reaches out and pulls her close, and they lie safe in the circle of each other's arms.


End file.
